


Ficlet: The Sins Of The Father

by Lanna Michaels (lannamichaels)



Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003), Lord of the Rings - Tolkien
Genre: April Showers Challenge 2011
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-06-19
Updated: 2003-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-18 14:42:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lannamichaels/pseuds/Lanna%20Michaels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Soundtrack: Linkin Park - Numb.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Ficlet: The Sins Of The Father

**Author's Note:**

> Soundtrack: Linkin Park - Numb.

As the last surviving member of the house of Stewards, I suppose that it is both my duty and my privilege, rather than a right and a responsibility, to record the deeds of both my father and my brother. I should attempt to explain their mistakes, excuse them their errors, and laud their wonderous achievements. I should point out how, under my father, Gondor retook lands that had been lost several times over to the Haradhrim. I should tell the exploits of my brother who journeyed as a soldier for over twenty years and won more battles than years he had. I should speak about their triumphs and their gait and the way everyone loved them.

But I am the younger brother, and was never meant to be called Steward. I was the scholar and only learned weapons because it was a time of war and succession is never easy in times of strife. Something might befall Boromir, everyone feared, and the rod would go to Faramir. None of us wanted that, least of all me. I was happy with my books.

My father, the second Steward to be called Denethor, was a harsh man with no time for merriment. He had only one love in his life: my brother. Yes, there is shame in that, and shame many times over in the way he chose to express that love. I don't suppose Boromir minded, though he never spoke of it. Close as we were, there were some secrets he never shared. That was probably the right thing for him to do, though how it pains me now to realize that I never truly knew my brother, not as well as I had thought.

Denethor was born to Ecthelion the Second and took the Stewardship at a good time in his life. I had not yet been born, though Boromir was a child and always claimed that he could remember the passing of our grandfather. Denethor had one rival in his life for few others dared compare themselves to the next Steward. Even then, my father was a harsh man. Thorongil was the name of his competitor and I have only recently learned that Thorongil was in truth the King Elessar, the Renewer, who has since taken the throne.

My father never could have compared with him, but as he never knew Thorongil's secret, the pain of paternal rejection was not as bitter as it most likely could have been. But Elessar, though he never knew it, had sealed mine and my brother's fates when he failed to take the crown during his first sojourn in Gondor. He condemned my brother to a life of shame and, I, to a life of secrecy and rejection. My father learned from the best that second sons are not worthwhile, for Thorongil had been like a son to Ecthelion and Denethor was always second in his regard after the strange Northerner came from Rohan to serve the White Tower. Shame passed in Elessar's wake, and only now do I begin to understand how much of my father was formed by his hatred of the one his father took instead of his natural son.

They say that Denethor is of like face to Elessar, though I have never seen it. They also say that I am of like face with my father, which has always disturbed me, as Boromir and I never looked alike. Why, then, did my father take to Boromir instead of me? Boromir looked nothing like Thorongil and, thusly, I cannot justify their relationship as revenge on the part of my father. Perhaps it was nothing but longing, though I cannot bring myself to believe that.

But the sins of the father are not for the sons to judge.

Elessar would have the people believe that my father died a hero's death and I suppose that lie was deemed worthwhile in order to get the people on his side. None remembered him as Thorongil and no false heirs came forward, for which the Queen is eternally grateful. I look at Eldarion sometimes and I see Boromir. It is...disquieting, to say the least. Our lines are connected, but I never knew how closely. Though I suppose it is only fair. Denethor begot Boromir and Faramir, and only one looked like him. Elessar begot Eldarion, Valandil, and Mardil, and only Mardil takes after him. The daughters are in the likeness of their Lady Mother, but the boys could be of the Steward line if none knew their illustrious lineage.

I think Boromir would be happy to know that his line, if only in image, endures. I have certainly been remiss. None of my children are named for him, something which eternally shames me. Eowyn, bless her kind soul, has never remarked on it, but she knows. She understands why I cannot give my brother's name to my son. It would say too much about me and the relationship I have with my children. Boromir has always been a cursed name, and I would not give that burden to any of my offspring.

But I know Boromir would never have understood. Peregrin named his son after me instead of in the name of the man who gave his life to save his. Boromir had no love wasted for the little ones, feeling they burdened the quest since none could truly be called a warrior. Yet, Boromir paid the final price for the Halflings' lack of experience, and none mourn.

Aye, on his deathday, Elessar wears clothes of mourning, and Eowyn gives me my space. The children know better than to try to disturb my meditations.

But none truly mourn.

Is it Boromir's lot to be forgotten, then? The line of the Stewards in the history of Gondor has gone from Denethor II to Faramir I and no mention is made of a brother or the fact that Faramir should never have inherited the title and the responsibility. At least for Eomer, Theodred's name is listed as a great warrior and a leader of men. Boromir has no such honor.

He has been consigned to the past, and Faramir is the future. Denethor's life was given to restoring Gondor and keeping her safe, when all the time a king could have ruled. My brother might have grown up innocent of war and never known the touch of a father's hand. And I could have been a scholar, free in my studies, and never had to know the weight of the Steward's rod, or a father's disappointed gaze.

Oh, yes, Father, I know your pain, for it is my pain. Your father never loved you, not as much as he loved the Other. Your sins are my sins, I fear, for I am also selective, and not by choice, in my love of my children. Ecthelion is my favorite and all know it, to my shame. But no brotherly strife divides my children, as no brotherly strife existed between Boromir and myself. I wish their love will grow as famous as my own, and none will know my fault.

And I suppose that is what I must strike from the Chronicle. None must know my father's shame. Let Denethor son of Ecthelion rest in peace and know that in history, he is his father's son.

As I am mine.


End file.
